


From Iraq, with Love

by adiwriting



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Epistolary (kind of), Love Letters, M/M, Pining, Youtuber!Alex, allusions to war and the shed specifically, canon divergent after 1x06, malex endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26550001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adiwriting/pseuds/adiwriting
Summary: When Alex is deployed to Iraq for the first time, he's terrified and just needs an anchor. A reason to come home. Only, he has no way to contact Michael. So he posts his love letters as songs on YouTube in the hopes that one day, Michael might see them.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 152
Kudos: 260





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aokayinspace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aokayinspace/gifts).



> This fic was born out of a conversation at the RNM +18 server with Arielle, Jana, Sam, and Alex- so this is for them (I don't know all their AO3 names to tag them all). Big shout out to Alex for beta reading this for me! 
> 
> As with everything I write, this was supposed to be a 2-3k one shot. It got away from me.

Alex survives the eight weeks of basic on anger alone. He’s still so pissed off at Michael for stealing Kyle’s hubcaps and getting arrested that he doesn’t have room in his heart for anything else. It’s all white hot rage whenever his mind has the space to so much as drift towards Michael. And most days, he’s too exhausted to even have time to think, so it’s a non-issue. 

The next nine weeks of tech get a little dicey. There’s more down time which leaves him with plenty of time for his mind to bring up images of a curly-haired boy with an adorable smile. He finds his anger starts to wane as the weather grows cooler and he starts finding himself worrying if Michael is still sleeping in his truck and if he has enough blankets. Or if he’s getting enough to eat now that he can’t rely on the school’s lunch program to feed him. But whenever his heart starts calling out, he’s able to shut the longing down with the reminder that if Michael cared, he wouldn’t have gotten himself locked up the day he was scheduled to leave town. He would have said goodbye. 

The moment he’s shipped off to Iraq, everything changes for Alex. Holding onto anger is pointless when he spends his days dodging bullets and simply praying he makes it home. The problems he’s allowed to keep them apart feel so small compared to what he’s facing over here. He starts missing the small things: laying down in the back of Michael’s truck, watching the stars together, having a hand to hold, having a shoulder to cry on. The desert back home had always been a peaceful place full of endless possibility. The desert here is lonely, littered with IEDs just waiting to kill him at any moment.

He misses Michael here more deeply than he ever thought humanly possible, but he has no way to reach out. Michael doesn’t own a phone. He doesn’t have a mailing address. He doesn’t even have an email as far as Alex knows. 

Nights are the worst. At night, the adrenaline wears off and he’s left alone with his thoughts. The cold has him reaching out for his space heater, holding on to the memory of Michael’s arms around him. His heart always pulls painfully, in need of Michael. He wants so desperately to hear his voice, to feel his touch, to be reminded that he’s loved. He needs to know that if he dies out here, that somebody back home will care. 

On his better days, he imagines that Michael regrets how things ended between them and wants to fix things. On his worst days, he pictures Michael moving on, their relationship a small footnote in his life story. Barely worthy of a mention. Meanwhile, Alex's entire world revolves around thoughts of Michael, not having any other home to cling to. 

And he needs to cling to something. The more experienced men around here warn him that the only way he’s making it through this is by remembering what he’s going home to. 

Within the first three weeks of being here, Alex watches three members of his squadron bleed out after their caravan gets overrun. He’s so shaken afterwards that the only thing he wants to do is pick up the phone and call Michael, but he can’t. Even if he had his number, their whole team gets put on radio silence for 48 hours while the military informs the families. 

So he finds himself sitting on his cot, pouring his heart out into a journal until the words start piecing themselves into song lyrics. He puts all of his feelings into music like he used to. It feels like a piece of himself comes back to him as he tries to remember the boy that he was before he ever enlisted. He borrows a buddy’s guitar and works out a melody. And by the time their radio silence lifts and the rest of his team is all calling home, Alex videos himself performing the song he wrote. 

He posts it to YouTube with the caption “From Iraq, with Love,” hoping that somehow, the boy he loves more than his own life will see it. That he’ll understand this is the love letter he’s not allowed to send. That this is his heart, open and honest, and so desperate for the connection they once shared. 

He doesn’t show his face in the video. While he doesn’t use any pronouns in the song, he’s working off of two very real fears. One, he doesn’t want to be identified and singled out by any of the locals who are already so eager to kill an American soldier. But two, and more terrifying, he doesn’t want to be identified and singled out by anyone on his team. If word gets back to his father about what he’s doing, he has no idea how that will go, but it will be worse than whatever the Air Force has planned for him if they discover he’s writing love songs to a boy.

Despite the dangers, Alex posts the video with no regrets. And the following week he posts another. It becomes a ritual for him. Anytime he’s missing Michael, he pulls out his journal and turns all of that longing into song lyrics. He posts videos as often as many of his teammates write letters home. 

The music helps him feel grounded. Gives him something real to hold onto in this hellhole. He writes and he writes, filling up journal after journal. He thinks that one day he might run out of words for Michael, but each week, he finds a new way to say sorry. A different way to phrase how deeply he misses him. A new memory that’s getting him through the day. It helps. 

He starts to build a small following online, mostly military wives, that respond to his work. It’s encouraging, but that’s not why he lives in the comments section. He’s searching, reading every username carefully, desperate for some kind of sign that Michael has seen one of his videos. He’s yet to find one, but he doesn’t give up hope. 

****

**2011**

Michael knocks on Isobel’s front door, but when nobody answers, he opens the door with his TK and shows himself in. 

“Iz?” he calls out to no response. 

He knows that she’s home. Even if he hadn’t seen her car in the driveway, she’d been the one to demand he come over to help. 

He walks through the house and towards the back, following the sound of music. He peeks out the back door and sees that Isobel is busy potting something on the patio and opens the door to step out. He’s stopped in his tracks when he recognizes the voice coming through the speaker instantly. 

_“They say dream big, but my desires are so small // Someone at night to call // Love lasting through to fall // Babe, I miss it all…”_

He’d know that voice anywhere. It’s been three years since he last heard it, but there is not a single detail about Alex Manes that Michael has ever forgotten. His face still haunts his dreams. His heart still reaches out. He’s still filled with so many regrets. 

_“The kisses that made me breathless // The touches that got us reckless // Together, we were fearless // Babe, I miss it all…”_

He blinks away tears as he tries not to lose it right here, because he’s for sure spent every day since Alex shipped off worrying over him, begging for scraps of news about how he’s doing, terrified that one day somebody’s going to tell him that he’s died. Michael never expected to hear his voice again. 

“Oh good, you’re here! Grab a pot!” Isobel says, standing up and dusting her hands off on her jeans. 

“What is this?” he asks, his voice coming out as shaky as he feels right now. He clenches his hands into fists to try and steady himself, but all it does is pull at his old injury and remind him of Alex even more. 

“You’re gonna help me landscape,” she tells him matter of factly, handing him a pair of gloves that he doesn’t take. 

Instead, he throws his arms up and gestures at her speaker, annoyed that she doesn’t seem to understand that the entire world is crumbling around him right now. “No, what is this?” 

“Oh, the song?” Isobel asks, like it’s not a big deal. Like Alex’s voice isn’t still fucking singing at him while he feels like he’s about to have a breakdown right now if she doesn’t tell him what kind of game she thinks she’s playing. Because none of this is remotely funny. 

“Do you like it?” she asks, reaching over to grab her iPod off of the table to hand it to him. “It’s this YouTube artist that I found a few months ago. Lonely Soldier? He just put out an album last week.” 

He takes the iPod from her and looks down at the screen. The album cover is a picture of a desert sky at night with the words, ‘From Iraq, with Love,’ written on it. The air feels more than a little thin as he pictures Alex making a whole ass CD for some other guy. He wants to scream because he knows that he’s the reason this got so fucked up. That he’d let the mess with Rosa drive Alex away. Michael had made so many stupid decisions that pushed Alex away, but his biggest sin remains getting locked up on the day Alex shipped out and not saying goodbye. 

But fuck, seriously? Did Alex really have to put a desert sky as the cover? Couldn’t they have kept something sacred for just themselves? He pictures Alex coming home on leave to somebody else. Imagines him in a different set of arms out in the desert, pointing out constellations in the sky. He wants to throw something. 

“You found this on YouTube?” he asks, trying not to sound nearly as affected as he is. If the way Isobel is looking at him is any indication, he’s failing. 

“Do you want to see?” she asks carefully. 

“What?” he asks. 

Why would he want to see that? Thinking of Alex serenading some fucking swarmy asshole that couldn’t possibly understand Alex like Michael does makes him physically ill. But then, he’s waited so long for any sign of life that he can’t imagine saying no. 

Isobel is looking at him carefully and he can just tell that she’s about five seconds from jumping into his mindscape, so he really needs to pull his shit together. 

“Yes,” he admits. As terrified as he is that he’s going to find out that Alex has moved on over the last three years, Michael is exactly the kind of sucker who will sit there and torture himself with the videos anyway.

“Sure…” she says, eyes narrowing as she tries to figure out the mystery in front of her. She continues to watch him as she gestures for him to step back inside. They walk to her office where she keeps her laptop. He shoves his hands into his pockets and bounces on his feet nervously as she pulls up YouTube and types “Lonely Soldier” into the search bar. 

The first hit is a YouTube Channel with an icon of a man in fatigues holding a guitar. It only shows the guitar and a single hand strumming, so there’s no way to know that it’s Alex, but Michael is certain. Alex’s voice isn’t something he’s ever going to forget. Before Isobel clicks on the profile, Michael catches a glimpse of his subscriber count and his eyes grow wide. 

Alex has nearly 80,000 subscribers. 

The channel loads and the first thing Michael notices is that the banner at the top of the page is the same picture as his album cover, but with the additional text of “Available on iTunes September 5th.”

“He only posts songs?” he asks, taking a seat when she pulls the chair out and gestures for him to take over the controls. 

“He’s some military guy, Air Force I think I read in one of the comments? He’s been posting new songs every week for awhile. They’re supposed to be love letters to some mystery lover back home. Super romantic,” she explains. “The internet is all abuzz trying to figure out who he is.” 

“The lover?” he asks, relieved that whoever Alex is involved with isn’t in any of the videos. 

“Yeah. But also who Lonely Soldier is,” she says. “Why do you look like that? What’s going on?” 

Michael ignores her and turns back to the page. Scrolling through all of Alex’s videos, it becomes clear that Alex never shows his face. Every video is shot from the shoulders down with a nondescript background. Sometimes it’s a tan canvas, sometimes it’s a bare cement wall. Rarely, there are shots of him outside in various terrains, giving the barest hint to where he’s stationed. 

He clicks on the about section, but the page is blank with the exception of a single line of text that says: 

_I would call you if I could._

The store page is a collection of EPs as well as several items of apparel. 

He jumps back to the video page, frustrated by the lack of Alex’s face anywhere. He’s had a single picture of the two of them to stare at for the last three years and would really appreciate a current one. To know how he’s changed and grown. To see for himself that he’s okay and he’s not sure that this page even counts. If he didn’t know Alex’s voice intimately, he never would have known to look here. 

He begins scrolling through the videos, noting that Isobel had been right. It appears as if Alex has been posting a new song every week for… awhile. By the time his scrolling has reached videos from seven months ago, he decides to click on one randomly. It’s titled, “What I Wouldn’t Give — From Iraq, with Love.” All of the videos follow that format. They start with a song title and end with a tagline of where Alex is stationed, signed with love. 

The song starts immediately, no introduction given. But Alex has left a caption below the video. 

_If I could go back to a time when you were mine, I would do it in a heartbeat. The desert gets too cold at night without your arms to keep me warm._

Michael tries very hard not to allow his mind to picture the way they used to lay tangled up in the back of his truck at night. He tries not to remember the way Alex would nuzzle his cold nose into his neck and hum happily about how Michael was always so warm. Alex most certainly did not write this song about him, and it will do his heart good to remember that. 

He listens to the entire song on the edge of his seat, focusing on how every single word is a reminder that Alex is alive. It’s a much easier thing to focus on right now than to try and sort through all of his complex feelings 

Alex’s words are gorgeous and filled with imagery that would make even Max proud. The melody reminds Michael painfully of a song that they had been working on together the summer before he left, but he pushes that down in favor of focusing on the joy. Alex is alive. 

He’s alive. 

When the song ends, he holds his breath and scrolls down, searching to find the first video posted. He tries not to notice how far back they are getting. He would be stupid to hope after everything. It’s been three years since Michael last saw Alex. Surely Alex has moved on by now… 

It takes him some time to reach his first posting, and when he does, he feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. The video is titled “Desert Sky - From Iraq, with Love,” and is dated January 5th, 2009. A little over five months after Alex had left Roswell and Michael had last seen him. He squeezes his hand into a fist so tight that his nails nearly draw blood as he bites the inside of his cheek. His heart is screaming at him that it’s a sign, but his brain is trying to remind him that hope is for suckers. 

He presses play with a shaky hand. 

Alex starts strumming the guitar without introduction and Michael reads the caption to the video. 

_I don’t know if you are watching this or if there’s any way you even could, but I miss you. I’m sorry I never told you I love you. If I had a way to call you, those would be the first words you would hear me say. -From Iraq, with Love._

The moment Alex starts singing about falling in love under a desert sky, Michael knows that this song could only ever be about him. The lyrics are too specific to be about anyone else. His heart twists painfully in his chest as Alex sings about how awful war is and how much he needs him. It registers painfully that Alex had tried reaching out to him and he had never seen it. He’s spent all this time assuming Alex wanted nothing to do with him, but here he is, several months after leaving, saying he loved him. 

Fuck. 

Alex had needed him and had no way to contact him. The only avenue he’d had to reach out was through a love declaration on YouTube and Michael had missed it. A tear falls as the song concludes and Michael quickly wipes it before playing it again. He ends up playing the video four more times until he has all of the words memorized. 

Isobel hands him a glass filled with bourbon and acetone. He downs it in one go before pressing the next song: “Rain — From Iraq, with Love.” He watches four more songs before Isobel gives up on refilling his glass and hands over both bottles. Michael gets stuck on “Crash Landing — From Iraq with Love” for several listens, unable to get the line, _“reaching out for your hand, only to find sand”_ out of his head. 

It’s not until he’s fifteen videos in that he notices he’s full on crying and Isobel has wrapped him in her softest blanket. Isobel has her arms around him and is watching him, concerned.

“Talk to me,” she pleads. 

What is he supposed to say? That he’s crying over lines like _“You’re the anchor that keeps me fighting to come home”_ or _“How could I say the words back then // nobody ever taught me how // but I look up at the stars at night // and I’m ready to say them now.”_

Michael shakes his head and clicks on the next video, needing to see them all. Every song hurts nearly as bad as the captions do, but there’s also the faintest glimmer of hope there that he’s trying hard not to acknowledge too much. 

> **Never Could - From Iraq, with Love**
> 
> _148,299 views * April 22, 2009 || 👍🏻36k 👎🏻231 ↪︎ Share + Save_
> 
> **Lonely Soldier**
> 
> _79k subscribers_ _SUBSCRIBE_
> 
> _I wish I could tell you about my day. You’d know how to make it better. -From Iraq, with Love_

> **Trying to Breathe - From Iraq, with Love**
> 
> _288,094 views * May 1, 2009 || 👍🏻49k 👎🏻321 ↪︎ Share + Save_
> 
> **Lonely Soldier**
> 
> _79k subscribers_ _SUBSCRIBE_
> 
> _Sometimes I worry that you’ve already moved on and I’m sitting here waiting for a letter, a phone call, a sign that you still care that won’t ever come. But I can’t give up hope because if I don’t have a home to fight for, I worry I won’t survive this. -From Iraq, with Love_

> **North Star - From Iraq, with Love**
> 
> _321,281 views * May 6, 2009 || 👍🏻61k 👎🏻518 ↪︎ Share + Save_
> 
> **Lonely Soldier**
> 
> _79k subscribers_ _SUBSCRIBE_
> 
> _Please. Contact me. -From Iraq, with Love_

> **Good - From Iraq, with Love**
> 
> _621,494 views * May 14, 2009 || 👍🏻75k 👎🏻621 ↪︎ Share + Save_
> 
> **Lonely Soldier**
> 
> _79k subscribers_ _SUBSCRIBE_
> 
> _I wish that I was good enough for you. I wish you could love me back. -From Iraq, with Love_

> **Lightning - From Iraq, with Love**
> 
> _701,142 views * May 19, 2009 || 👍🏻94k 👎🏻693 ↪︎ Share + Save_
> 
> **Lonely Soldier**
> 
> _79k subscribers_ _SUBSCRIBE_
> 
> _You always used to smell like rain, and now, every time it storms, I think of you. -From Iraq, with Love_

Around the twenty-fifth video, Michael pauses as the titles change to -Stateside, with Love. 

“He came home,” he whispers, hand hovering over the video, terrified he’s going to recognize the background and realize that Alex was here in town. That they were within miles of each other and he never reached out despite the way his songs claim he wanted to do. 

“Some fangirls of his say he was stationed in Texas. They did a whole CSI thing on one of his videos,” Isobel explains and Michael lets out a relieved breath. 

“Texas?” he asks, needing to hear her verify that Alex hadn’t been home without finding him. 

She nods and gives him a sad smile. “Yeah… Michael, I’m going to need you to talk to me or I’m calling Max. You’re freaking me out.” 

“Don’t call Max,” he says, turning back to press the next video before Isobel can argue further. 

He watches another ten videos before Alex gets sent to Germany for the following fifteen. He’s about to press play on a video titled “XX - From [undisclosed], with Love,” when Isobel grabs his wrist to stop him. 

“You’ve been sitting here for three hours. Why don’t you take a break?” she suggests.

“I’m fine,” he argues which earns him a glare. 

“You are not fine,” she says. “And you are not about to watch that video without at least having some real food in your stomach first.” 

There are times when Michael can argue with Isobel and win, but there’s a look in her eyes that tells him she’s going to put up a fight and he doesn’t have the energy right now for a battle. He lets her pull him out of his seat and brings him to the living room where Noah carries over a box of pizza with paper plates before making himself scarce. 

The two of them sit in relative silence as they eat. He finishes a slice, which is about all his stomach can take. When he comes back from throwing out his plate, he expects the grilling to start, but she surprises him by not pushing. It’s probably this easy acceptance of his needs that has him actually talking about what’s going on with him for the first time in years. 

“It’s Alex,” he says. The confession feels like a massive weight off of his shoulders. There is a lot that he still can’t tell Isobel, but he’s never enjoyed lying, and this lie is one he’s happy to be done with. 

“What?” 

“Lonely Soldier? It’s Alex Manes,” he explains. 

She gives him a confused look. “Okay… so it’s a kid we went to high school with. That still doesn’t explain why you...” He gives her a look knowing where her line of questioning is going and begging her not to make him explain it. “Oh. Oh!” 

Michael blushes and his eyes stare at a spot at the wall just over her shoulder, not wanting to see the judgement in her eyes as she realizes that he’s bisexual. 

“You never said anything. When did this happen?” she asks, moving closer to him on the couch. 

“Senior year.” 

He can see the wheels turning in her head as she tries to figure this out. “How did I not know this?” she asks. 

“It happened in June. He left in July,” he says, giving her a significant look. She doesn’t say anything, but the understanding on her face tells him that she’s connected the dots. They’d all had a lot going on at that time and certainly had more important things to talk about than his romantic relationships. She pulls him into her arms and he lets her. For the first time in years, he lets her comfort him. 

“Alex is singing about you,” she whispers. It’s not quite a question, but he can tell she’s still trying to solidify that fact in her mind. 

“I thought he hated me,” he whispers. “He hasn’t contacted me once since he left Roswell.” 

Isobel runs her fingers through his hair with one hand and rubs his back with another. It feels nice being taken care of, even if he’s not sure he deserves it. 

“He didn’t know how,” she explains. “That’s the whole point of the YouTube channel. He didn’t have a way to reach out.” 

“What do you mean?” he asks. 

“Haven’t you been reading the video summaries? You didn’t have a phone and he didn’t have an address to send letters to. These songs were his only way of reaching out to you.” 

He sits up suddenly. “Well how the hell was I supposed to ever hear them?!” he argues, frustrated but also, just really overwhelmed by everything. 

“You’re hearing them now,” she says with a kind smile. 

She reaches out to put her hand on his shoulder but he shrugs out of her touch and stands up, moving back to the office to finish watching the videos. He needs to see how this story ends. How long Alex continues to sing love songs for him before he loses interest and finds a new inspiration to write about. 

“Michael, maybe you shouldn’t watch any more today,” she follows after him.

He looks up to see her eyeing the computer nervously. It only makes him want to watch the next video that much more so he clicks on it before she can stop him. 

> **XX - From [undisclosed], with Love**
> 
> _1,481,142 views * December 24, 2009 || 👍🏻425k 👎🏻13k ↪︎ Share + Save_
> 
> **Lonely Soldier**
> 
> _79k subscribers_ _SUBSCRIBE_
> 
> _You told me once that your favorite constellation was Virgo, I can’t find it anymore and I worry about what else I’m going to forget. But mostly, I worry that I’m going to die out here and never be given the chance to remember. -From [undisclosed], with Love_

Michael isn’t sure what is more difficult to listen to, the lyrics describing a level of loneliness that Michael relates to well, or the way Alex’s voice waivers the entire song, like he’s crying as he sings it. The part that goes, “ _Help me make it hurt less // Help me want less // Help me feel less…_ ” hits him especially hard. He reaches out to touch the screen, wishing he could hold Alex and make it better for him. All he’d ever wanted to be for Alex was a safe place to land, but any chance he had at that turned to ash when he’d helped put those girls into Rosa’s car and lit it on fire. 

Alex shouldn’t be singing these songs for him. He should be out there searching for somebody who’s capable of bringing him happiness. Someone he can call on his lonely nights. Someone who will mail him love letters and email him daily for updates. He deserves something normal. 

Isobel walks around to the other side of the desk and unplugs the laptop. He grabs it before she can take it, terrified of losing his only connection to Alex. 

“Let’s bring this upstairs,” she says gently. “It’s getting late. You can watch from bed. It’ll be more comfortable.” 

Michael follows her up the stairs and into the guest room. She pulls a spare pair of pajamas out of the dresser that she keeps for the nights he stays over and hands them to him before turning her back so that he can change. 

“I know plenty of guys on base. I could reach out and get Alex’s APO for you,” she says. 

He wants more than anything to agree. To find a way to reach back out to Alex and let him know that he’s seen the videos and that he’s still here, desperately wanting as well. But DADT is still technically a policy for at least another week and there’s no guarantee that Alex will want people knowing about him even after that. After all, just because DADT has been repealed by congress doesn’t mean Alex is going to want to be out of the closet. If Alex wanted people to know about his personal business, would he hide his face in his videos?

“He won’t want people knowing about us,” he decides, finishing changing into the sweatpants she’d handed him. 

“You’re telling me that this boy,” Isobel pauses to press play on XX before continuing, “gives a rats ass about how he hears from you just as long as he does?” 

“Iz, please. You don’t know what his dad is like,” he argues, coming to grab the laptop out of her hands. She turns around and gives him a sad look. 

“I just hate knowing that you two have been kept apart. It’s clearly hurt you both,” she says. 

He doesn’t reply. Instead he crawls into bed with the laptop and presses play on the next video, needing to see all of them. Isobel crawls into bed next to him. 

“You don’t have to stay with me,” Michael says. “I’m not going to jump out the window or something.” 

“I know,” she says. “But you shouldn’t have to be alone.” 

She reaches out to hold his hand, but is sure to pull out her phone and start scrolling through Instagram at the same time, like it’s not a big deal. He sees through her act, but he appreciates it all the same. He really doesn’t want to be alone. He’s been alone all of his life and he’s sick of it. 

The two of them stay like that for the next seven hours as Michael watches every last video. Isobel falls asleep sometime around midnight, but Michael doesn’t finish until nearly 3am. He notices, with some degree of hope, that the last few weeks, Alex’s songs have all been from stateside. He wonders where he’s stationed and how long it would take him to drive to wherever Alex is. With his mind filled with too much chaos to attempt sleep, he goes on a deep dive of the comments section of Alex’s recent videos. There are a lot of declarations of love and a handful of proposals for marriage. Several people claim to be Alex’s long lost lover. A small group of fans are in the comments dissecting every frame, trying to figure out where Alex is based out of from the sliver of a window in the shot. 

But his favorite comments are the links. It turns out that Alex has done interviews. Nothing in person, nothing that shows his face, but there are articles. He reads those, then retreats to Google, looking for more. This is where he finds a handful of phone interviews that have been posted to some kind of social media website called Tumblr. And boy does he come across several interesting posts on that website. But his favorite remains the phone interviews. Hearing Alex’s voice outside of a song, just getting to hear him talking brings up a new set of emotions for him that the songs hadn’t managed to reach. 

He misses talking to Alex. He misses laying in the bed of his truck and talking for hours on end about everything and nothing. Michael doesn’t have many people in his life that he can be open with. These days, he has none. Things with Max have been difficult ever since that night in the cave. Isobel is great, but he always has to be careful what he says around her for fear that he’ll let something slip. Alex was different… And then he’d left. 

More than his kisses, more than his touch, Michael just misses talking to him. 

There is one interview in particular from this past May that he listens to about five times before he emails himself the mp3 so that he can try and figure out a way to get it onto a CD. He’s sure there’s a way to get it onto the old pay as you go flip phone that he uses, but damned if he knew how. Alex was the computer guy, Michael was the engineer. 

> Interviewer (I): What made you start writing music? 
> 
> Alex (A): Well, I’ve been writing music since I was thirteen, so that wasn’t anything new for me. But when I was overseas for my first deployment, I was really lonely and scared. I was so young and in over my head. Most of the guys I was with would call home when things got hard, but I didn’t have the ability to call the only person I knew could help. So I made a song for them and posted it. 
> 
> I: A Dear John for the tech age. 
> 
> A: I guess (Alex laughs)
> 
> I: You have posted over 150 songs to your channel. That’s impressive. 
> 
> A: I spend a lot of my down time writing. 
> 
> I: Have you ever missed a week? 
> 
> A: There have been a handful of times that I haven’t been in a position to post, but there’s usually always time to at least write, so I’d usually just post extra songs once I was able to again. 
> 
> I: And every song has been for the same person? The same lover? 
> 
> A: Every one. 

That is Michael’s favorite part. The way that Alex says it, he can hear the fondness in his voice. It does something to his soul that the songs had only started to do. It’s healing and it’s hopeful and Michael feels like he can still fix this. 

> I: That’s really romantic. I think that’s why you’ve managed to gain such a big following. The ladies in particular love your sound. 
> 
> A: I’m not sure there’s anything romantic about being kept apart from the person that you love, but I think that a lot of people know what it’s like to long for somebody and that’s what people connect with. 
> 
> I: Has your mystery lover ever reached out to you? 
> 
> A: Not yet. 
> 
> I: After all those videos? Why keep posting? 
> 
> A: I guess I still have hope that they’ll see it one day. 
> 
> I: I think that’s something your fans want for you. I bet if you told us who this person was, people would help track them down. 
> 
> A: Oh, I’m sure they would (Alex laughs). But I’ll leave that up to fate. 
> 
> I: You have several EPs on iTunes, but you’re working on a full length album? 
> 
> A: I’ve been working on something for awhile now. The military schedule doesn’t allow as much time in a booth as I would like, but we finally got the last song recorded on my last leave. I’ll have an album dropping in September. 
> 
> I: Will you ever consider touring? 
> 
> A: I do enough tours in my job (Alex laughs). But I have a year left on my contract, then I’m going to be out. I plan on doing music full time after that if people are still interested in me outside of my uniform. 
> 
> I: Somehow I doubt that will be an issue. 

One year left. That’s the other part of the interview that Michael holds onto. They’ve already made it three years apart, one more year shouldn’t be the end of the world. He could do that, right? It sounds easy enough in theory. In practice, there’s a world of difference between Michael surviving three years thinking Alex was doing just fine without him and Michael surviving another day now that he knows Alex has been reaching out for him all this time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the overwhelming response! I had no idea if anyone was going to want to read this fic outside of the small little circle of people who stayed up late with me talking about the idea. I'm glad to see that the idea resonated with people. I hope that I do the Malex reunion justice. 
> 
> Once again, thanks Alex for the assist with this!

Alex walks into his dormitory at the end of the day and changes out of his fatigues. Once he’s comfortable in a pair of sweats, he sits down on his bed and pulls his computer into his lap to go through his emails. He’s expecting something from his manager about an interview he’s been trying to set up for him in order to promote the album. He scrolls past the endless emails informing him about new comments on his YouTube channel, he’ll go through these later once he’s finished responding to all of the pressing concerns.

Managing his burgeoning music career while finishing out the last year of his contract with the military has been a lot, but it’s been a good distraction for him. Alex has always done better when he can stay busy. And it’s a relief to know that he has a plan for after he retires from the force. He never expected his music to take off like it has, but it’s been nice. It’ll be even nicer once he can focus his whole attention on music and doesn’t have to split his time. 

He responds to several emails. Two from his manager, a few from some producers he’s looking at trying to work with and the last one from a charity that he’s interested in helping. Once he’s caught up on all of his professional emails, he lays back in his bed and starts making his way through the new comments on his videos. 

His manager thinks he’s crazy for still reading every one. He’s begged him to let him get somebody to manage his social media accounts, but Alex refuses. He understands that it would make his life easier if somebody else helped him manage the fanbase, but Alex started his channel as a way to reach out to Michael and he would never forgive himself if he missed a comment from him after all this time. 

There are comments from a core group of fans that he’s come to think of more as friends. He logs in to congratulate @ArmyWifeByDay on the news that her husband is coming home in three days. He’ll be home before the baby is born. He leaves a note of encouragement for @YogaMomma29141 who’s been having a hard time with her son’s deployment. He makes a mental note to watch the latest video that @19andClueless has linked, interested to see if he took his advice about the bridge to the song he’s working on. 

There’s a whole thread with close to 50 comments that appear to be a group of three or four people arguing about his sexuality that he skips over. He’d learned long ago not to engage with that kind of stuff. Finally, an hour and a half later, he’s made it through every new comment. He turns to the video responses waiting in his inbox to be approved. 

There’s always a handful of reply girls whom he ignores. There’s typically a video or two of somebody sharing a story of how they personally related to a song, which he finds endearing. Messages like that keep him going on the days when trying to maintain his YouTube channel in the midst of his military duties becomes too much. But overwhelmingly, he gets a lot of video replies of people performing music. Sometimes they’ll be covers of his own stuff, other times it’ll be original work, but it’s a lot of music from people wanting to get their own name out there. 

He glances over the twenty videos or so that are waiting in his inbox for approval. He immediately ignores some. He skips over the usernames he knows, vowing to watch them later. It’s getting late and he wants to sleep, he just wants to make sure first that he’s checked everyone that’s reached out. 

That’s when he notices something. There’s a username that he’s never seen before. @LonelyCowboy has responded to an old video of his from two Christmases ago. It’s not that uncommon, especially for that song. It’s his darkest piece and it tends to invite a lot of emotions from people. Still, it gets his attention. 

The video is called “Alkaid - From Home, with Love.” He rolls his eyes at the title, assuming it’s yet another person trying to claim they are his mystery lover. As if Alex would ever fall in love with a self-professed cowboy. His type is very much science nerd. Give him a ratty old pair of sneakers over a pair of cowboy boots any day. And it would be a crime against humanity if Michael ever covered his beautiful curls with a cowboy hat. 

He’s curious though and clicks to expand the message so he can see the video. In the still, there are two people in frame, but he can’t see their faces. It’s filmed from the shoulders down in the same style that he films in. One of the people is holding a guitar while the other doesn’t have an instrument. The summary reads: 

_To find Virgo, find the Big Dipper and use the curved handle to make an arc to Arcturus. From there you’ll be able to extend the line to Spica, Virgo’s brightest star. Though you should know, the moment you left, I stopped looking for Virgo. Now I look to Alkaid and think of you. -From Home, with Love_

It’s not the first time that somebody has done something like this to get his attention, but every time it catches his breath. The air feels like it’s been sucked out of the room and he has to remind himself that it’s public knowledge that his mystery lover’s favorite constellation is Virgo. He wrote it in a summary before. There are plenty of incredibly smart people on the internet who have used the little bits of knowledge he’s made public to piece together a fairly accurate profile of Michael. And often, people use this knowledge to get his attention. 

There’s an incredibly high likelihood that this video isn’t Michael. 

He clicks through to watch the video, every one of the 10 seconds it takes to load feeling like an eternity. He can’t explain it, but something about this video feels different. For starters, it’s a new channel, or so he imagines based on the fact that the video has zero views and zero subscribers. This isn’t some well-practiced artist out there trying to manipulate the YouTube algorithms to get more views. 

Before the song even starts, Alex’s breath catches as he hears a voice he hasn’t heard in three years say, “So I couldn’t play this song I wrote for you because of this.” 

Michael holds up his hand, and even through the grainy screen, Alex can see the scars and misshapen bone. He reaches out to touch the screen of his computer, feeling like an idiot, but needing to feel a connection. The screen is cool to the touch, the exact opposite of how he knows Michael would feel. He always ran so hot. The perfect person to cuddle up with on those cold desert nights. 

What Alex wouldn’t do to hold him one more time… 

“You were always the one with the pretty words,” Michael says, and Alex has to disagree. Michael was always so good at saying the most romantic things, casually. Easily. Words were harder for him. Alex could sing them in a song, but the words would get caught in his throat otherwise. 

He often thinks that was part of the problem with them. That he was too afraid to say what was in his heart. Maybe if Michael had really known, he wouldn’t have worked so hard to push him away. Maybe Alex wouldn’t have let him. 

“I was only ever good with a guitar,” Michael continues. “So this won’t be winning any awards, but I figured turnabout is fair play.” 

Alex is so overwhelmed at just hearing his voice again that he can’t help but let out a shaky laugh through his happy tears.

Alex bites his lip as the guitar starts to play and he wonders who Michael got to accompany him. There’s a flash of jealousy there but it’s gone as quickly as it came. He doesn’t honestly give a shit who Michael is with right now because he’s just so fucking happy to hear from him after all of this time. 

He pulls his laptop closer and turns up the volume, not wanting to miss a single detail. 

_“There are some nights // When the wind is quiet // And the moon’s shining bright // That I can still feel your lips on mine…”_

His voice is untrained and weathered, but it’s the most glorious thing Alex has ever heard. Every word goes straight to his heart as his stomach twists into nervous knots, needing so badly and terrified that this is too good to be true. 

_“We were lost boys, you and I // Sleepless nights under starlit skies // You gave me a home // Somewhere not to feel alone // I shouldn’t have let you walk away…”_

Alex practically holds his breath with every word, praying that Michael is saying what he thinks he’s saying. Honestly, he can’t imagine that Michael would reach out after all of this time and sing him a song if he didn’t still love him… But between growing up with his father and his time in the military, he’s learned not to expect things to go in his favor. 

Michael sings about his regret over pushing Alex away when he told him he’d enlisted, but it’s not until he gets to the end that Alex gets the confirmation he’s been needing that Michael still wants this. That he still wants him. 

_“I didn’t say the words then // I didn’t know how // But if you would come home // They’d be the first thing I’d say now // I don’t wanna be Alkaid // I don’t wanna mourn you anymore // I just want to hold you in my arms // And understand what all this has been for // To Iraq my love // Come home_

The song ends and Alex instantly presses replay with trembling fingers. He watches it five more times before he converts it to an mp3 and uploads it to his iPod. He clicks back through to his account and opens up his inbox to compose a private message to Michael. 

Alex doesn’t realize that he’s crying, big wracking sobs, until he can’t type Michael’s name. His fingers keep slipping over the keys. But he eventually manages to type out a message. Simple and short, but direct enough to make his point. If Michael has seen his videos, then he’s already seen Alex’s heart. 

> _Michael,_
> 
> _Please call me. I don’t care what time it is, just call me. 210-241-9342._
> 
> _I miss you. I still love you._
> 
> _Alex_

It hasn’t even been five minutes since he’s pressed send on the message, and his phone starts to ring with an unknown number. The area code is from Roswell and his heart leaps into his throat. His hands struggle to press accept but once he does, he brings the phone up to his ear as he wipes his eyes frantically. Not that Michael will be able to see, but he wants to at least feel more put together than he is. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Michael says in a rush before he can even say hello. “I don’t know why I never told you that?” 

“You didn’t know how,” Alex says through a shaky laugh, Michael’s words going a long way to soothe over old wounds. “Neither of us did.” 

“I knew I was going to get arrested when I stole Kyle’s hubcaps,” Michael admits. “Valenti had told me the last time that he caught me stealing from the pharmacy that I was all out of warnings. I stole Kyle’s hubcaps cause he was an ass, but also because I knew I’d get caught stealing from the sheriff’s kid and they’d arrest me. I refused to tell you goodbye. I’ve regretted that every day since.” 

It’s not that he hadn’t suspected as much, but it’s nice to hear it confirmed. And if they are starting off with confessions right off the bat, Alex has several of his own. 

“I was in love with you, but I couldn’t stay, as much as I wanted to,” he says, wiping his tears with his sleeve. “It was too much.” 

“I was too much, I know,” Michael says, and it sounds like he might be crying too. 

Alex shakes his head, before realizing that Michael can’t see him. “No.” 

“Don’t lie to me, please,” Michael says. “I know you thought I was wasting my life and didn’t want to deal with me when I was getting into so much trouble.” 

Alex debates arguing with him, but the truth is, Michael isn’t wrong. Not entirely. But it doesn’t mean that Alex didn’t wish he’d been able to handle it. He had wanted to be able to help him, but he didn’t know how. Michael wouldn’t talk about it and Alex felt too guilty to press the issue. After all, Alex knows that Michael only started spiraling after the toolshed and it wasn’t something Alex was able to talk about himself even if he thought Michael needed to. 

“It wasn’t just you,” he settles for instead. “I just couldn’t be around all of the violence anymore.” 

“So you went off to war instead,” Michael says with a snort. 

“When you say it like that, I guess it doesn’t sound that great.” 

He doesn’t know how to explain to Michael that the violence of war is different than the violence at home. That even in the battlefield, there’s an order to the military that he thrives on. His home was always so chaotic, but the military is rigid. He knows what to expect every minute. And even in the haze of battle when everything is on fire and plans have been blown to shit, there’s a chain of command to fall back on. The military gives him a sense of purpose and a sense of power that he’s needed in his life. 

He’s going to leave it behind the first chance he gets, but he can’t pretend that being in the Air Force hasn’t given him the stability that he’d desperately needed at 18. 

“I’ve been so scared,” Michael says. “When I never heard from you, my mind went to some dark places. I still read the obituaries every day, praying I never see your name.” 

Alex’s heart twists painfully in his chest. “I had no way of contacting you,” he whispers. 

Michael is silent for a moment and Alex bites his lip nervously, unsure of what Michael is going to say next. He’s always a wildcard. Towards the end of their relationship, after Michael knew Alex had enlisted, he’d been every bit as likely to say something achingly sweet as he was to lash out with something incredibly biting. 

“You never had a single leave?” Michael says doubtfully. “They are supposed to give you 30 days a year.” 

“How did you know that?” he asks, deflecting a bit because he hadn’t expected Michael to challenge him on the fact that he had no way to reach out. 

“You don’t think that poor foster kids get the speech from recruiters starting freshman year?” Michael says. “Besides, when you enlisted, I did my research. I was trying to figure out how we’d even make it work.” 

“You were?” Alex never knew that and the knowledge that at least part of Michael had wanted to stay together after he’d been shipped off makes his mind dance with what ifs. He wonders if the world would have been any kinder to him if he’d gone off to war the first time with Michael still by his side or if the realities of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell would have hit harder. 

“Why didn’t you ever come home?” he asks. 

Alex pauses and really thinks about the answer. He knows what he’s always told himself. It’s never been hard to find an excuse. He didn’t have anywhere to stay. It wasn’t worth it for just a weekend trip. The plane tickets were too expensive. The drive too far. Once his music career took off, his leaves were always spent in LA or Nashville in a recording studio. He had contracts to uphold and could place the blame at someone else’s feet. His label being the ones keeping him from Michael. 

But none of those are the real reason and Michael deserves some honesty from him after everything. 

“I was scared that I’d come home and you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he admits. “That maybe you’d have moved on and I’d have to see you happy with somebody new.” 

“You’re my home, Alex,” Michael says firmly, like the idea of him not wanting Alex anymore is ridiculous. “You’re the only home I’ve ever had. I need you. Then and now.” 

The room blurs as his eyes tear up again. “I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t want an apology,” he says, not unkindly. “I just want _you_.” 

Alex had been pretty sure about where Michael’s heart lay after the song. Hearing I love you went a long way in settling his fears as well. But hearing him admit he wants Alex so plainly, without any preamble, makes him melt. 

How on Earth is Michael something that Alex gets to have? And that’s when that sliver of doubt starts to creep back in. The thing that always reminds him that he never gets anything good for long. Whenever he starts to feel happy, he’s reminded of how quickly things can change. He hears shed doors slamming open; ringing in his ears after an IED explosion; cries of innocent people as buildings burn. 

But as much as he’s scared to let himself have this, he’s even more terrified of losing it again. 

“That’s all I want too,” he admits. 

It feels like a massive weight lifts off of his shoulders at the confession. 

Michael gives a shaky laugh before saying, “Where are you? All your video says is stateside.” 

“North Dakota,” he says. 

He returned from Iraq three weeks ago. His time in North Dakota is temporary. He’s helping out on a special project while he awaits more permanent orders. He’s been hoping for Texas or California, but now, he might ask about the possibility of New Mexico. He’s never wanted to be stationed anywhere near his dad, but he wouldn’t turn down a chance to be near Michael after all this time. 

“I’m getting in the car right now,” Michael says, and Alex actually hears the opening of a door and the jingling of keys. 

“It’s 1300 miles, Michael,” he says with a surprised laugh. He knows the exact distance because he’s written it into a line of the song he’s planning on posting tomorrow: _‘There’s 1,315 miles between us // but my mind’s only ever 2 seconds from you.’_

“I don’t care.” 

God, Alex can just picture the smile that Michael must say it with. It reminds him of being 17 again. The way Michael would look at him like Alex was the answer to every question he could possibly ask and Alex would just fucking melt under all of that affection. He’s never had anybody make him feel as seen as Michael had. 

“At least let me buy you a plane ticket,” he says. He’s not arguing with Michael coming. He has needed to see him every day for the last three years. But Alex doesn’t know Michael’s financial situation and even if money isn’t an issue for him these days, and he hopes it's not, he’s not about to let him drive 20 hours in the middle of the night. It’s already 11pm in Roswell. 

“Would it get me there any faster?” Michael asks, not a single protest over Alex paying for a ticket. Which is new. Alex used to offer to buy them stuff all the time back when they were dating and Michael would always shrug it off with a smooth line like, ‘I don’t need it, all I need is you.’ 

“A plane?” Alex chuckles. “Yeah it would be faster than driving.” 

He pulls his laptop into his lap and starts looking up flight times. 

“1,300 miles at 70 miles per hour gets me there in 19 hours. 20 if I stop for gas and stuff,” he says and Alex knows that he did that math in his head within seconds and has to smile. Michael has always been brilliant. Alex wonders if he ever did make it to school and hopes he has. 

“If?” Alex laughs. He’s not sure what kind of superpowers Michael thinks he has, but there’s no car on Earth that would get him 1300 miles on a single tank. He scrolls through the options of flights, ignoring the cost in favor of which option gets him here the soonest. 

“You are 20 hours away, I can be there by 7pm tomorrow,” Michael says. “Find me a plane that lands before then and I’ll get on it.” 

“If you can get to Albuquerque by 6am, you can get on a flight there and be here by 4:45 tomorrow night,” he tells him. “There are some transfers, but it still gets you here two hours earlier.” 

“I can get to Albuquerque,” he says confidently and butterflies start to dance in Alex’s stomach and his heart sings as he realizes that this is real. Michael is actually going to come. Alex is going to be able to see him. To touch him. His cheeks actually hurt from how much he’s been smiling. The past three years haven’t given him much reason to smile. 

“I’m buying it right now,” he says, not even thinking about the amount of money in his checking account or what he’d budgeted for this month. It doesn’t matter. This is what he has a savings account for. 

It feels reckless buying the ticket for another man. A little bit devious, like he could get caught. Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is still in effect for five more days and though it’s a formality by this point, he’s not sure he would have ever dared to test that. But for Michael? For Michael anything is worth it. 

He hasn’t spent the last two and a half years writing countless love songs for him to miss the chance to see him now. He presses submit on the ticket before he can think twice and his smile grows. 

Michael is actually coming. 

After three years apart, Michael is going to visit. He’s going to be able to see Michael and touch him and hold him. It feels super romantic, the entire thing. Posting love songs on YouTube and reconnecting after years apart. The plot to a cheesy rom-com. He doesn't care. 

“I’ve never been on a plane before,” Michael admits. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. Alex is a seasoned flyer by now thanks to his time in the Air Force. But he still remembers the first time he ever flew was when they’d put him on a plane to Iraq and how nervous he'd felt about the entire thing. 

Michael laughs. “It’s not like I’m getting in a rocket ship to space or anything, right? I’ll be okay. If it gets me to where you are, I’ll be more than okay.” 

“Good,” he says with a smile.

“I just don’t know what I need,” Michael admits. “There’s a lot of rules and stuff when flying, right?” 

“Just don’t pack any weapons or liquids like shampoos or toothpaste and you’ll be good. Unless you want to pack travel sized stuff, but make sure you don’t have anything over 3oz and that it can fit in a single zip lock bag,” he explains. 

“You can’t take toothpaste? How do people brush their teeth where they are going?” 

“You can take toothpaste, but travel size and in a clear bag. Or you can check your bag, but then that takes more time too so you have to plan for that,” he explains and realizes that there honestly are a lot of weird things about flying that people would never know if they hadn’t done it before. 

“You know what, don’t worry about that stuff, you can use my toothpaste and anything else you need,” he offers. 

“I miss you,” Michael says it and it comes out like a sigh of relief. 

“I miss you, too.” 

“I think I got that from one of the 150 songs you wrote me,” Michael teases him fondly. 

“Yeah,” is all he can say through his blush. 

He’s used to people teasing him about it. Though his identity is publicly a secret, plenty of his teammates figured out who he is and give him flack for it. Most of his teammates do it in good fun, the same way he teases them for getting emotional over a letter from home. But there are a few assholes whose teasing is anything but good natured. 

Michael teasing him over the songs hits differently though. It’s playful and loving and right. So incredibly right. 

There’s a moment of silence between them before Michael says, “I didn’t know.” 

Alex doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s not sure what Michael didn’t know, so he waits for him to explain himself. 

“I don’t have the internet so I don’t watch YouTube,” he says. “But Isobel was listening to your album and I heard your voice, I knew it was you. I stayed up until 7 in the morning watching everything I could find on Isobel’s laptop. I just… I never would have known Alex.” 

Alex can’t tell if he’s saying it to be accusatory or if he’s stating it in wonder that he was able to stumble across it. Alex can hear a little bit of both. 

“I knew the chances of you seeing it was slim, but I had to try something,” he says. 

“You never thought to reach out to anyone for my number? Isobel or Max would have given it to you, once I had one to give. Though they would have asked some questions first. Maria would have passed on a letter for you if you were more comfortable confiding in a friend.” 

“I wasn’t ready for people to know,” Alex admits, shame washing over him. 

“And now?” 

“Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is still technically in effect,” he says defensively. 

“For five more days,” Michael argues, pushing lightly on a button that he very much knows is there. Though he doesn’t push as hard as he has in the past, so Alex has to give him some credit. “What happens after that?” 

Alex bites his lip. It’s not the first time he’s thought about this. When the ruling had come down a few months ago, Alex had thought about his closet a lot. He’s yearned for how freeing it would be to be able to step out and live a more truthful, honest life. But without anyone to step out of the closet with, he hadn’t been sure there was a point in making anything public. Now that Michael is back in his life? 

“This closet has been feeling a little small,” he admits, not ready to commit to anything without giving it more time, but he’s considering it. 

“I don’t want to rush you or push you to be out,” Michael says. “That has never been my intention. You have very good reasons for being afraid, so I’ll climb in there with you if that’s what you need. I just want you to be happy.”

“I’m tired of letting my fear take control,” he says. “Once Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is repealed officially, there’s no real reason to hide anymore except for my fear.” 

“Your father?” Michael asks with a carefully neutral tone. 

“He can kiss my ass. I’m an adult. My contract is up in 9 months and then he can’t touch me. Can’t touch us,” he says with far more confidence than he feels on the matter. 

His dad most certainly could still make their life miserable if he really wanted to. The fact that he left Michael behind in Roswell with his father is one of the biggest reasons Alex never threw caution to the wind and showed his face on YouTube. He’d always been scared that his dad would retaliate against Michael. 

“So you’re really getting out in 9 months?” Michael asks, his voice hopeful. 

“Yeah,” he says, not mentioning the fact that he’s already got a contract with Interscope that will require him to do a tour once he’s out. He figures there’s a world of difference between a tour of duty and a concert tour. They can cross that bridge when they come to it after they have a discussion about what exactly it is they both want out of this. 

“Good,” Michael says before shifting the conversation back to his trip. “So my flight is at 6?” 

“Yeah. I’ll need to email you the ticket. Do you have access to a printer?” he asks. 

“I can use Isobel’s.” 

Alex nods. “I’ll need your email.” 

Michael gives him his email address which Alex is sure to save into his contacts after he emails the ticket to him. He wonders how long Michael has had both a phone number and an email without Alex knowing. There have been so many times that he’s wanted to reach out. Tough days in the field where he’s needed to hear Michael’s voice or tell him something and couldn’t. It’s the entire reason he came up with the YouTube channel. Though they were songs written for Michael in the hopes that he’d find him again, it also gave him a community that he could talk to when things were especially hard for him. 

“You’ll need to get there early,” Alex says after Michael asks him another question about how airports work. 

“How early is early?” he asks. 

“Probably 4:30 to be safe.” 

He expects a groan or some kind of protest. The Michael he knew wasn’t a morning person. When he’d taken that job out at the ranch right before Alex left, he’d complained loudly about the hours. 

“It’s a three hour drive there,” Michael says. “I need to leave here by 1.” 

“Is that a problem?” he asks, praying it’s not. 

“No, I just need to pack and get to Isobel’s so she can print my ticket for me,” he explains. 

“I guess I should let you go so you can do that,” he says regretfully. A part of him never wants to hang up. Terrified that this is all some kind of fluke or fever dream. That tomorrow will come and Michael won’t get off the plane and Alex’s heart will be shattered. 

“It won’t take me 2 hours to pack and pick up a ticket, Alex,” Michael says playfully. 

“Oh.” He breathes a sigh of relief that he doesn’t have to say goodbye just yet. 

“Stay on the phone while I figure out what I need to bring, and tell me what you’ve been up to,” Michael says. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Yours too.” 

The two of them stay on the phone for the next few hours. Alex talks Michael through a sunnier version of what his life has been like in the Air Force. Michael sees through him and Alex promises to give him a more realistic take once they are in person. Michael in turn talks Alex through all the odd jobs he’s taken around town and how he’s saved up enough to buy himself an airstream. Somewhere he can lay his head at night that nobody can ever take from him. Alex is relieved to hear that he no longer lives out of his truck. That he has a safe place to rest. 

They tease each other playfully at times. Cry together at other times. But it’s good. Every last second of their time together is healing. 

Alex stays on the line as Michael drives to Isobel’s and explains to her that he’s going to be out of town. Alex is slightly uncomfortable when Isobel asks if it means he’s going to see Alex, and he realizes that Isobel knows about him. But that discomfort is outweighed by how nice it feels to hear the acceptance and support in her voice. Even as he listens to her brag about being the reason they found each other again and demanding to be maid of honor at the wedding. 

The closet he’s in feels that much smaller at the happiness in Michael’s voice as Isobel teases him. He thinks about how good it would be to step out. To stop hiding behind his fear. Wonders if that’s even a possibility for him. If he could really risk his dad’s wrath, no matter what he might have said to Michael. 

They stay on the line for Michael’s entire drive to Albuquerque under the premise that Alex just wants to make sure Michael doesn’t fall asleep on the road. Then he stays on the line when Michael gets to the airport because he sounds so nervous. They don’t hang up until Michael is going through security and one of the guards makes him. Michael informs Alex that his phone is dying and he’ll see him when he lands. 

By the time they’ve said goodbye, it’s time for Alex to report for duty, where he spends the entire shift practically jumping out of his skin with nerves and anticipation. He’s so distracted and tired from the lack of sleep that he makes plenty of mistakes. He gets his ass handed to him by his superior. Yet, he doesn’t care. Michael is coming. 

Nine and a half hours and two changed planes later, Michael is stepping through security and falling into Alex’s arms. They stand there, in the middle of the airport, holding one another tightly. Whispering apologies and promises to one another. Reminding each other of how much they have been missed. Of how deeply they are loved. 

Alex buries his face in Michael’s neck as happy tears roll down his face. Michael still smells like rain and it gives him such an overwhelming feeling of home. 

All is right in the world again. 

****

“Are you sure about this?” Michael asks. Once Alex posts the video of the two of them, faces shown, there will be no turning back. He’ll be out for the whole world to see. 

“Never more sure about anything in my life,” Alex says, his eyes filled with certainty, his voice unwavering. 

Michael can’t help but kiss him. It’s been six days since his plane landed in North Dakota and Michael still hasn't been able to stop himself from kissing Alex every chance he gets. He’s absolutely addicted to the feeling of Alex’s lips against his own. 

“Me too,” Michael says just so that it’s clear to Alex that he’s right there with him. “Are you sure that your record label won’t care? I know that the military can’t fire you anymore, but what about your contract?” 

“I called my manager yesterday,” Alex assures him. “He doesn’t think it’ll be an issue.” 

“Doesn’t think or he knows?’ Michael asks doubtfully, his mind coming up with a million different ways this could go sideways for them. 

“Michael…” He grabs his face in his hands to get his attention. He kisses Michael deeply and everything goes quiet. His mind settles. 

“Jump with me,” he whispers when he pulls away, resting his forehead against Michael’s own. 

Michael smiles and nods. The two of them reach out and press upload on the video together. 

****

> **Found - From Home, with Love**
> 
> _2,931,949 views * September 21, 2011 || 👍🏻299k 👎🏻98k ↪︎ Share + Save_
> 
> **Lonely Soldier**
> 
> _103k subscribers_ _SUBSCRIBE_
> 
> _Home doesn’t have to mean a white picket fence house and a family. It can be a person. -From a home filled with more love than I ever thought possible ❤️_

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are <3


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